


Endless Drowning

by Cat_Moon



Series: Endless Drowning [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Dark, Gallows Humor, Hopeful Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 12:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19768555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Cat_Moon
Summary: Jack is desperate to see Ianto again... whatever it takes.





	Endless Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> Not the most original idea, but this is my take on it. Dark but life-affirming at the end.  
> Written around 2010 sometime, when I was still reacting, but never posted anywhere.

He drowned in the Pacific Ocean, just off Long Beach, by the light of a huge full moon. He tumbled in an exhilarating free fall off the top of the Shanghai Tower, sailing through space for what felt like forever before the unforgiving pavement crushed every bone in his body. He saw Ianto in the Sahara, while he was wandering aimlessly through the sand dunes, slowly dying from dehydration. They spent an enjoyable afternoon together on a southern veranda sipping mint juleps before the unrelenting sun sucked the life out of him and he dropped into the sand for the last time. That was the best death yet. A camel herder found him, and when he recklessly propositioned the man, he was stabbed. Bonus points for that one. He would have repeated it just so he could see Ianto again, but repeating was cheating, and so he pushed himself to find something else, maybe Ianto would come to him again.

It became a drug, addicting with the promise of temporarily alleviating the pain in his heart and soul, replacing it with a more easily bore physical one. It was liberating, challenging; how many ways and times could he find to get himself killed in one day? He was far surpassing the early days of his immortality, when he’d spend all night in a London drinking establishment that ultimately culminated in a fight and an alley death. This was much more imaginative at least. Too bad he didn’t have the stopwatch, he could’ve really put that to good use.

He wondered if he’d ever see Steven, hoped not. Ianto, at least, he could face. Not his grandson.

He ended up in Cardiff again. Maybe he could find some nooks and crannies he hadn't died in yet. He might have to stop this soon. His body was weary, worn down from the constant attempts. It was taking longer to come back and he felt like crap, but there was no real hope of it sticking, he'd just remain dead too long and risk someone finding him and doing autopsy or embalming. He wondered what coming back from _that_ would feel like, but wasn't willing to go that far. Had to save some first times after all, keep things from getting boring during the long eternity.

Maybe there was a magic number of deaths that, once reached, there would be no returning from. After all, the Doctor was supposed to be the expert, and even _he_ didn’t seem to know very much about Jack’s condition. They were just assuming, based on empirical evidence, that he could never die and would live forever. Jack decided he would need much more experimentation before he could accept the hypothesis. Being reunited with Ianto (although he didn’t really believe in an afterlife) or an end to the pain by dying for good, either was preferable to the hell he was living through. They’d want him to go on, to heal. For what? Just to start caring again and love and lose all over again over and over? Nothing but pain waiting to happen and pain experienced. Or walling himself off as he’d been when he met Ianto, blocking his heart to avoid the pain. Was that living?

Stabbed in a major artery with a Kebab stick? Well, he was trying to be creative. There weren't many new ideas in Cardiff. As he was bleeding out, getting weaker and the light was dimming, he felt a presence.

“Why are you doing this, Jack?” sad knowing eyes gazed steadily at him.

He tried on his old, cocky Harkness grin. “Why not?”

“Is it helping? Haven’t you punished yourself long enough?”

Jack wondered if there was enough time in eternity to punish himself _enough_.

“It’s time to stop this,” Ianto insisted. “Come and find me.”

Jack stared. Not knowing what Ianto meant, ruthlessly pushing down stupid hope that wanted to bloom. Confusion...

“Come and find me.” Ianto repeated before fading out.

Jack gasped back to life.

Maybe Ianto was talking about the obvious, bringing him back from the dead somehow? Or maybe Jack would succeed in finding a way to follow Ianto, for good. A new thought struck him: all these deaths he’d had recently… _was_ there a way out? He'd been too steeped in his mourning to remember the conversation he’d had with Ianto once. Morbid and bizarre by most people’s standards, it was actually meant to be comforting to a man cursed with immortality as his lover had pointed out with that dry reasonable demeanor of his that _everything_ dies, and the impossible could not be possible simply by virtue of its impossibility. Stepping out of the airlock of a spaceship could be a permanent death, no oxygen to bring him back. Unless some misguided passerby went and hauled him inside their ship one day. He could always jump back into cryo at Torchwood (providing it would be up and running again), and hang up a **Do Not Disturb** sign. Again, not necessarily permanent... they’d probably bother him every time they figured they needed him for something, but that might be an option better than constant living 24/7, 365. If he had the courage to stick to his convictions. The question through all this: did he _really_ want to die permanently? Was he willing to do whatever it took? Or did he cling to life as desperately as mere mortals, even while decrying it as a curse?

‘Come and find me,' Ianto had told him.

Jack didn’t know what that meant. But he was going to find out.

The end


End file.
